


all this feels strange and untrue

by duchessofavalon



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Anti-Lockout Squee Fest, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-28
Updated: 2012-09-28
Packaged: 2017-11-15 04:43:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/523269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/duchessofavalon/pseuds/duchessofavalon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>it’s completely ridiculous to miss something you never had in the first place. (and yet.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	all this feels strange and untrue

**Author's Note:**

> unapologetic lockout fic. this would not exist if it hadn't been for ChibiRHM holding my hand (and being a world-class beta). thanks lady!

Despite the fact that the time difference really fucked with his head at first, playing in Switzerland doesn’t entirely suck. He’s playing on a line with Segs, hot Swiss girls are constantly hitting on both of them when they go out (which they do pretty frequently), his shoulder’s feeling good, and if he feels weird, empty, disconnected, he ignores it. And if he keeps catching himself looking around for Ebs on the ice, well, it doesn’t affect his game, so it doesn’t really matter in the overall scheme of things. Especially since Ebs hasn’t called or texted since a simple _landed and headed to Tubes’_ when he got to OKC. 

Not that he’s made any effort in that department either, but that’s not the point. Nuge has Skyped him three times already. Even Jonesy’s called once to check in (although Taylor’s pretty sure he just wanted someone else to scream at about the fact that he’s gonna be a dad, which, go Jonesy). But he hasn’t heard anything from Ebs. 

And you know what? He doesn’t care. And he definitely doesn’t wake up reaching for Ebs in the middle of the night. That wouldn’t even make sense, since it’s completely ridiculous to miss something you never had in the first place.

(He misses Jordan anyway.)

 

:::

 

It’s stupid to be mad at Hallsy. Jordan’s told himself this about six thousand times, and Nuge has told him nearly that many, and somehow it still has yet to sink in, because he’s still mad. Mad that Hallsy didn’t take better care of himself, mad that he waited four years to have a surgery he’d known all along on some level that he was going to need, mad that he went back to Kingston instead of getting himself checked out by the team docs in time to be sent down to OKC with the rest of them, mad that he’s in Switzerland broing it up with Segs-- Jordan adds something new to the list every time he picks up the phone, pulls up Hallsy’s number, and then doesn’t call.

The thing is, being mad at Hallsy’s an unfamiliar feeling and it’s really thrown Jordan off. Not on the ice-- the Barons are tearing it up in their division and he feels like even with the lockout his game is consistently improving.

But something inside him feels _off_. Weird. All he can think to blame it on is that he’s mad Hallsy isn’t there lighting up the scoreboard with them, and that just makes him even more angry. It’s a vicious feedback loop.

(And _God_ , he misses Taylor.)

 

:::

 

Living with Segs is nothing like living with Ebs. For one thing, when they’re not at practice or at games or out with the team, Segs lays around and stares at pictures on his iPhone. Taylor has no idea who the pictures are of, and he hasn’t asked. That’s not the point, anyway-- the point is that Segs is moping and it’s really bringing Taylor down.

Okay, Taylor was already sort of down, but it’s not his fault that he can’t enjoy the fact that they’re winning almost every game that they play. He doesn’t know why, but winning feels hollow without Ebs. 

(But it’s not like _he_ feels hollow without Ebs. He’s totally fine.)

 

:::

 

It’s still strange to look across the ice and see Maggie instead of Hallsy. In the past two years, they’ve so rarely played on different lines that looking to the left and seeing Hallsy open for a pass has become as natural as breathing. Jordan worried a couple of times that he was becoming _too_ dependent on it, actually, but being down here in OKC has shown him that’s not the case at all. He and Maggie and Nuge have become a unit, working together almost seamlessly, making plays and taking shots. It feels good. Playing doesn’t feel _right_ in the way it used to-- Jordan still feels unbalanced, off-center-- but it’s just going to take time, is all. He can adjust.

He can play without Hallsy.

(He just doesn’t _want_ to.) 

 

:::

 

And then the lockout ends, and everyone scrambles to get back home to their teams. 

 

:::

 

Taylor’s hoping the weird disconnect he’s been feeling will go away when he walks back into his apartment for the first time in months. He’s not expecting to feel even weirder and even more detached. Yeah, they didn’t live there very long before the lockout started, but it hadn’t mattered-- just like with their first place, things had sort of clicked into place once they were there together.

Now, standing in the middle of the living room, staring at their recliners, Taylor kinda feels like a stranger in his own home.

 

:::

 

When he finally makes it back to his apartment building in Edmonton, Jordan is feeling a little bit like he could cheerfully kill someone. That weird feeling of being off-kilter has only grown in the months he’s been playing with the Barons, and now that he’s home, he kind of hopes it’ll just magically disappear. It doesn’t. From the moment he steps into the Edmonton airport baggage area and sees the carousel decorated in Oilers memorabilia, the feeling gets worse with every step he takes until he’s almost dizzy with it when he walks through his front door.

And when he gets into the living room, he can almost feel something inside him snap.

 

:::

 

Taylor doesn’t really question _why_ it feels totally normal that Ebs kisses him the second he walks into the room, even though they’ve never done this before and so there’s no reason for it to feel as natural as it does. Why would he? It’s not like he has any complaints, except, shit, why the fuck is this jacket so hard to take off? 

He says that part out loud, apparently, because Ebs’ hands are covering his and undoing the zipper and Ebs is laughing against Taylor’s lips and it’s like as soon as he hears that sound something inside him settles. That aching empty disconnect is gone like it wasn’t ever there in the first place, and in it’s place is something heavy and warm and if Taylor had to describe it he would only be able to say that it feels like Jordan, like _home_.

And, fuck, apparently that’s what’s been wrong.

“I love you.” 

It comes out on something that is too close to a gasp for his liking, but it’s not like he’s going to tell Ebs to stop doing that to his neck (although he’s definitely gonna get shit when camp starts tomorrow for the mark that’s gonna leave). Jordan freezes, and Taylor can feel his lips turn up in a grin. 

“Oh yeah?”

Taylor’s hands stall on Ebs’ belt and he huffs. “Fuck you, if you’re not gonna say it back you can take your own pants off.” 

 

:::

 

Jordan laughs, bright and loud and _happy_ , because the dizziness is gone and his feet finally feel like they’re firmly planted on the ground, like he’s back where he belongs. He kisses Taylor again-- he can’t not-- and their lips are still touching when Jordan says, “I love you, fuck, so much-- Hallsy, I was so _mad_ at you--”

“Mad at me? You were the one who didn’t call!”

“I tried, I picked up the phone so many times, but I was just-- _God_ , Hallsy, what the fuck, these are the most complicated pants in the world, why are you wearing pants with so many buttons?”

“Because they make my ass look awesome?”

“Your ass _always_ looks awesome. It would look even better if I could get these damn pants off of you.”

Things kind of devolve after that.

Thankfully, they’re as good at sex as they are at everything else they do together.

 

:::

 

It would figure Ebs is the type to go to sleep after sex. Taylor’s awake though. His mind is still too keyed up, and his shoulder is all pins-and-needles feeling where Ebs is laying on it. He tools around on twitter for a little while, retweeting some stuff from the PA about the lockout ending and replying to some of the nicer fans and tweeting Segs a reminder that Boston girls know what he’s like, so he probably shouldn’t expect to get laid now that he’s home.

The sun is sinking once he’s done going through his timeline, and he’s started yawning, so he sets an alarm on his phone to wake them up in an hour or so and gets his arm settled comfortably around Ebs. He’s just about to toss his phone onto the bedside table when he stops himself and pulls up his Twitter app again.

 

:::

 

Taylor Hall @hallsy04  
it’s good to be home.


End file.
